What if
by Captain Hector
Summary: What if Goldeneye had happened differently? How? Read on. Yay! Chapter 3 is up and running! Thanks to all my reviewers who were faithful and didn't give up on me! w00t!
1. Chapter One

What If  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own James Bond: 007. Duh. Summary: What if things had gone differently in Goldeneye? What if Bond had left the timers at 6:00 minutes, or if in the end, Alec had won? This is my (Captain Hectors) teamed up with Riku and The Kestrel's version of what might have happened (BTW I don't know if the Kestrel is an official member so I'm not sure if you'll succeed in finding his name here)  
  
It was too quite. 3 seconds ago, Alec's AK had been blazing shots all over the cold, stainless steel stairs, killing Soviet guards who had been rushing through the door.  
  
"Alec?" James Bond called, standing behind the massive tanks of chemical weapons  
  
He, agent 007, along with Alec Trevelian, 006, had invaded a top secret weapons facility in Russia. Their mission: destroy it and get out alive. Large amounts of weapons were being produced here daily, and it was Bond and Alec's job to stop it.  
  
"Alec?" Bond called again, sounding more urgent  
  
He rounded the corner, and saw his best friend, 006, on his knees, a Russian general's gun to his head. Bond pulled his Walter PPK out, only to realize that the General was backed by at least fifty armed men.  
  
"Don't do something you'll regret, agent," sneered the Soviet, tightening his grip on the small pistol.  
  
"Do it, James! Finish the mission!" called Trevelian, glaring at the Russian with eyes full of hate.  
  
Bond was unsure of himself, for the first time in his life, it seemed. He ducked behind the barrels and put his finger on the timer button. He lowered it to 3 minutes instead of six.  
  
"Surrender, Bond! You cannot escape," came the Russian scum's voice, echoing through the large room  
  
Bond began to come out. At the last second he hit the timer back to 6 minutes and ducked behind a cart of gasoline barrels. The Soviet pulled the trigger. Bond watched with horror as Alec's body crumpled to the floor. He looked away, before starting to walk across the room towards a conveyer belt, using the gas tanks as cover. One nervous Russian actually pulled the trigger, spewing bullets all over the gas tank. One of the tanks started leaking, and a steady trail of gas started to run towards computer equipment at the end of the storage facility. The Russian jumped to cover, Bond ran and grabbed Trevelian's body and dragged it onto the belt. Seconds seemed to pass like hours. Bond turned his head in time to see the gas hit the bare wires, a spark fly out, and a trail of fire light up, going to the cart he was behind a second ago.  
  
Bond hit the button to the belt, sending him outside, as the bombs behind the gas tanks hit zero and the cart exploded. Alec moaned, and James seemed surprised, until he realized that 006 must have been shot with a blank by accident, and just fainted from the shock. He slung the smaller form of Alec on his shoulders and ran for a plane, kicking the pilot in the pills and grabbing the keys with his spare hand. Russian soldiers were rushing out of the base, but too late to catch Bond and his new plane.  
  
"Rushing Russians" Bond thought to himself, as the buildings behind them exploded. Alec had regained conciseness, and watched the base explode, spraying the Russian soldiers with flak. He noticed the general crawling out from under a sheet of metal that had protected him.  
  
"Damn good job, James," he muttered, slipping into unconsciousness again.  
  
Bond realized, with a shock, that he must have been shot by the soldiers, as Alec slid onto the dashboard of the plane, blood soaking through the back of his black bullet-proof vest. Those stopped only pistol shots.  
  
"Bond, tell M that I died during the mission. Not after." came Alec Trevelian, 006, James Bond's best friend's last words. 


	2. Chapter Two

What If: Chapter Two  
3 Years Later  
  
James Bond walked through down the street quietly. He looked like the average man, returning home after a long day of work. Except his work had been just a little bit more stressful, and he wasn't returning home yet. Ironic, that on the eve of the day Alec had died, he would end up back in Russia, thirty minutes away from the Archangel weapons facility, now a ruined relic of the Cold War. Tourist busses often used the site as a picnicking ground, as the bodies of the Russians had been cleared.  
  
Alec's funeral had been a small affair. M, Q, Moneypenny, James, and a few others had shown, but it had been nothing grand. Because he had no parents, all of his personal belongings had gone to Bond, although 007 never wanted to think back to that day. He should have been more careful. He should have made sure that Alec hadn't been shot through the back as he had.  
  
Bond rounded a corner into a small back alley, and pulled a long metal tube from underneath his trench coat. He entered an old building that had been abandoned for a long time, and climbed the stairs to the top floor. He entered an apartment, and opened the cabinet holding the base of a sniper rifle, and the scope. After assembling the gun, he took his position at the window, aiming across the street. Any second now, a Soviet soldier would walk by. One who was slow to give up communism and move on.  
  
James looked over at a street vendor, reminding himself not to hit the innocent as the Soviet walked by. He looked right into the shop window that his target would be in, and was shocked. There stood the Russian general, Ourimov, the man who, three years ago had been behind the killing of Trevelian.  
  
"Put your hands into the air!" came a harsh voice behind him  
  
Bond turned around slowly, to see three men, all with AK47's standing there. Bond slowly raised his hands, but then swung the rifle into the chest of the first man. He swung the sniper around and shot two shots, right into the others. Didn't want any loud gunshots in a crowded area. He looked down at the unconscious Russian. Then everything went black.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - -  
  
Bond awoke with a terrible headache. He was tied to a chair in front of a desk. A small lamp hung directly over him, lighting up only the desk. There was a small letter on the desk. "For England, James? Or for friendship?" It wrote, and had a small checkbox by each one. Bond managed to get one hand free, but was greeted by the click of a lock, somewhere in the dark room. Bond picked up a pen lying on the desk.  
  
(Flashback! BWAHAHAHAHA!)  
  
The coffin was slowly sinking into the dark dirt pit. A small cross-headed the grave, just like the other fifty graves in the small cemetery outside of Alec's town. M looked grave serious as always, and Q just shook his head. He had always been a good friend with Trevelian as he was with James. Moneypenny sobbed away, while the few 00 agents gathered there looked down at the wooden box with a dazed look on their faces. They couldn't believe that the man considered the most cunning 00 agent of all time was really dead.  
  
Bond never cried. Not a tear fell from his eye as he watched the grave being filled with dirt. He was wearing a gray trench coat with black pants, and he held an umbrella in his hand. It seemed that even the sky mourned for Alec's death. James hadn't talked to anyone for days after that fateful mission. He couldn't bear to look at the body, and in Trevelian's will, it had stated that he didn't want any last respects. Just to be buried here, in this small cemetery outside of this small town. Trevelian had always been strange in a way.  
  
(End of flashback. Back to reality.)  
  
Bond pushed the cap of the pen and lowered it to the paper. Seeing Ourimov only brought back painful memories, and having to answer this pop quiz was just too much. He lowered the pen to the paper, and checked one box, in an unwavering handwriting. The lock clicked open, and Bond slipped free of his bonds. He checked the hallway outside, and seeing no one, left. Three blocks and he was back at his hotel. He checked out for the morning, giving him one night before he left. He wanted to get back to England soon.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
What did Bond choose? I've decided to make that up to any fans I have. Review and post what you think it should be! Thanks to: Disc Inferno1-Thanks for the review! This story will be updated often, and hopefully that will attract more fans. If not, than I may take this story off, but who knows yet? This vote is up to you! You get to help write this story, and as soon as the votes are tallied, than I will post the next chapter.  
  
FLAME US! BURN US! LOVE US! BUT REVIEW US PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!! 


	3. Chapter Three

What if: Chapter 3- For England  
  
James Bond sat in the small cafe, just down the street from where he had been held hostage. He couldn't understand why anyone would want to kidnap him just so he could answer some stupid test. He had naturally put 'For England,' as England was his home country, and he would defend it to his death. Tomorrow he would return to England. He had been held for several days, apparently, and had missed a helicopter theft. M wanted him closer to home, after he had brought her up to date on the situation. He sipped his coffee again. Alec would understand what was happening. Alec always knew what was going on. "Almost always," Bond corrected. There had been that one time. And it had cost Trevelian his life. 007 had a terrible headache. He stood up and paid the bill, speaking a few words in Russian to his server. He walked back to his hotel, but realized that sleeping wouldn't help; his hotel was next to the airport. "Got a dollar for the telephone?" came an American voice behind him He realized he had walked right past the hotel, and the phone booth that his contact was supposed to meet him in. "Sorry, but I'm broke tonight," Bond repeated, remembering the code he had set up "Alright. I guess I'll have to remember my wallet next time," said the voice That wasn't the code. His contact was supposed to meet him here yesterday, but Bond had been 'unable' to come. Bond sighed. Felix wouldn't like this. He strolled into the airport, and up to the counter. "Hello, I just wanted to confirm my reservation, tomorrow," Bond told the woman standing behind the counter "Name, and flight please," said the woman "My name is Bond. James Bond," Bond said, with the usual air of grandeur in his voice "That's nice, but I need your flight also," replied the unimpressed woman, with a tone of annoyance in her voice "Err. yes. that's flight number 506 to England," James replied, embarrassed "Thank you, and yes you are booked for the 10:30 flight out of here to London," droned the woman, "But I think that it would be wise to stay by the phone booth next time, 007" Bond was a bit surprised. He realized that the Russian accent was not real, and that this must be his contact. "What's the word from M?" Bond asked "You missed a helicopter theft, as well as a few uprisings and minor terrorist attacks. M wants you back in London as soon as possible. "Alright then. Nice meeting you. Perhaps we may meet some other time," Bond replied, congratulating himself on the good pick-up line. "The day I see you again, Mr. Bond, is the day I have a can of pepper spray. Goodbye, 007," and with that, the contact left through the employee only door. "Well that could have gone better," Bond told himself, a bit disheartened at the cheeky attitude he had just received. As he walked towards the gate, he bumped into an old man rushing outside, scattering papers everywhere. "Sorry, old chap, let me help you with those," Bond offered "Thank you, sonny, but I can get them myself," the old-timer replied, "plus, the next flight leaves in a few minutes. If your going to England, France, Spain, or Denmark, you had better get to the plane," the man said "Thank you! I nearly missed my plane!" 007 said, vanishing in to the crowd before the man could look up "You welcome sonn. eh?" the man said, confused  
  
Bond slowly munched his pretzels on the plane. He looked down at the out-of-date magazine on his tray-table, board to tears. He had always hated long airplane trips, or airplanes for that matter. Too many close calls. One direct hit. Bond distracted himself by wiping his hands on his napkin. He was surprised to find a small bit of ink come off. He looked at the towel more carefully.  
  
"Interesting choice, James. Always for King and Country, 007" it read.  
  
That's all for now, fans! Sorry it took so long to update! School is murder. I just realized that I am talking to people who won't even read this note, probably, and who can't respond! Ack! I'm insane! But that's nothing new ;). The next chapter will be a bit sooner. Out my 2 stories and 1 poem, this is the most favorite, so this will get updated sooner, naturally. I plan to get a bit back to the storyline (with the whole Goldeneye theft) but add in my subtle changes. I plan on, after making this one, making another story called ".Things went differently" that tells what would happen if Bond chose "For Friendship." I would keep Bond on the good side, although I like Alec better, just cause I'm not that evil.  
  
Special Thanks: Elf of Rivendell: Thank you! I have a loyal fan who has reviewed both my stories! wOOt! Agent V: Don't worry! Alec is alive! I couldn't kill my favorite Bond character! Molly: Thanks for the review! Sorry for not updating sooner, but school was. oh yeah. see end note jason storm: Lots of reviews here! I will write more, don't worry! Phoenix Master: Sorry about the spelling error! I had never seen the Generals name spelled before, so I guessed. Ah well. I didn't like that guy anyway. I would have killed him in the first chapter, but I needed him for later on. russiangirl: Thanks for the review! Alec is coming back better than ever! Disco Inferno1: Thanks for the review, faithful fan! Hope you like this chapter, and any others I come up with!  
  
Until the next time I update, Captain Hector. 


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